


Strong Essences are Held in Small Bottles

by addict_writer



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Emissary Stiles Stilinski, Emissary in Training Stiles Stilinski, Everyone Is Alive, Fluff, Full Moon, Humor, Inspired By Tumblr, Light Angst, M/M, Smut, quotes from sterek season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 10:10:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12479176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addict_writer/pseuds/addict_writer
Summary: Stiles has been training to become the best emissary, but nothing could have prepared him for meeting Derek Hale. The young Hale Alpha is lucky Stiles has the power to save him from the sticky situation he got himself in.





	Strong Essences are Held in Small Bottles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vyxyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vyxyn/gifts).



> I hope this is all you wanted Vyxyn. 
> 
> I spend too much time on Tumblr and some lines were inspired by posts I found there.

 

Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV)

Title: Strong Essences are Held in Small Bottles

For: Vyxyn

Beta: derpyjeffcarter

Relationship: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Additional Tags: Smut, Everyone Is Alive, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Alpha Derek Hale, Emissary Stiles Stilinski, Fluff, and Powerful Stiles Stilinski

Description: Alpha/Emissary. Don't yet know each other, but are the perfect Alpha/Emissary pair. When I say everyone is alive I also mean Claudia.

Summary: Stiles has been training to become the best emissary, but nothing could have prepared him for meeting Derek Hale. The young Hale Alpha is lucky Stiles has the power to save him from the sticky situation he got himself in.

 

Stiles had never imagined to be in such a situation. He'd known that his power would eventually bring him in the vicinity of werewolves. But from learning that mythical creatures existed to learning that he had the power help them, guide them, to actually face such a creature was something alien to him.

Dr. Deaton was the veterinarian in Beacon Hills. He was also his best friend's, Scott, boss. Above all, Deaton was the Druid who had been an emissary for the Hale family for years.

Druid in Gaelic meant “Wise Oak”. Druids acted as advisers, emissaries, to the werewolf packs to keep them connected to humanity.

The Hales were the only family of born werewolves left in town.

Deaton had explained that when the time came, he'd be in charge to help the next generation.

It took Stiles months to wrap his head around his new life – he had the Spark, he'd become the emissary for one of the Hale children. His parents, as it turned out, knew a lot more than he thought possible about the supernatural world.

His father, as the sheriff, had encountered quite a few peculiar scenarios.

His mother was friends with the leader of the Hale pack, and acted as a replacement for Deaton when he wasn't in town.

Stiles got involved in this world when a stray werewolf had created havoc around town earlier in the previous year. The creature had bitten his best friend and turned the girl he thought he loved into a banshee when she'd turned out to be immune to the bite.

When Stiles thought his life couldn't get weirder, his mother told him he'd been assigned to become Derek Hale's emissary. Talia Hale was ready to step aside and allow her son to become the Alpha, but for that he needed the wisdom and guidance of a Druid.

Stiles stared at his shaking hands as he sat on the sofa in his living room.

“Honey, it will be all right,” his mother said softly, sitting next to him.

“I'm eighteen, Mom! I have no idea what I'm doing. How can I make the right decisions for someone else when I never make the right decisions for myself?” He cried out, clenching his fists.

“The Hale boy is a few years older than you. He's returning home after rebelling and trying to make it on his own out there.”

“I heard the story.”

The doorbell rang, and Stiles felt like throwing up. He wasn't ready to face the feral werewolf. There was no way Derek was sane for leaving his family.

Claudia patted her son's shoulder, before going to answer the door.

Stiles concentrated on making his hands stop shaking. The nausea feeling multiplied when footsteps approached the living room. He wasn't ready to face Derek Hale.

When he looked up, he found Talia and his mother. No Derek.

“Did he lose his nerve?” Stiles asked in a steady voice.

“Actually, Derek refused to meet some teenage brat – his words.” Talia shook her head, giving him a sympathetic look.

“I could go talk to him, or we can tell Alan—”

“Where is he?” Stiles cut off his mother's reasoning. “I'm going to him.”

“At the viewpoint,” Talia explained, smiling.

“Don't follow me. This is between me and Derek. If I am to be his emissary, he better treat me with more respect.” He grabbed his jacket, then stormed out of the house.

He wasn't sure if their mothers were impressed by his actions, but if he didn’t ride the adrenaline wave pumping in his blood, he'd lose his nerve entirely and probably flee town.

His mother's jeep stuttered down the winding road leading to the Preserve of Beacon Hills. Stiles had no idea what he'd tell Derek Hale. He had no idea how the guy looked, but there couldn't be that many werewolves lurking around in the woods in the late evening.

He walked the path to the viewpoint on shaky feet, as fear gripped at his insides. All his lessons with Deaton and his mother taught him that he held the power, but the proximity of facing a wolf who'd turned his back to his family, his pack, sounded like facing a dog gone feral.

The first thing Stiles noticed was the hunched shape of a man on the boulder. He and Scott had come many times to the viewpoint to get drunk or talk nonsense.

“Hello!” He said loudly, walking closer. His eyes widened when he noticed the man wasn't hunched over, he was sprawled on the boulder and bleeding. “Please, let it not be Derek. Please. Please. Do not be Derek.”

The man's eyes opened a fraction. They were pale, just like the rest of him.

“You'll be fine. I'll get help.” Stiles fumbled with his phone, dropping it.

“You're the brat,” the man rasped out.

Stiles looked up at him from his crouched position, searching blindly for his phone.

“The kid my mother wants to be my emissary?”

“Shit. You _are_ Derek.” Stiles fell to his knees. “Oh, my GOD. And you're already dying. I'm…”

Derek wrapped a hand on the front of Stiles's shirt. His claws dug holes in his shirt. “I've been shot with a magic bullet.”

“Oh, my GOD! That's bad, right? It's terrible.”

Derek's eyes flashed blue. “I need the antidote. No one is to know about this.”

Stiles noticed the hole in Derek's forearm, which made his stomach turn. “Didn't your mom see you already?”

Derek bared his fangs at him, making Stiles yelp and scurry back. “I came here to hide from her. Somehow, I knew you'd show up even though I told her over the phone I only wanted Deaton.”

“Deaton's not in town. I'm the best thing you've got right now. It seems like your life depends on me.” Stiles sat up, dusting off his jeans. “I wasn't expecting to be thrown in the action so soon.”

“I only have less than an hour. They gave me forty-eight hours after they shot me.”

“Who? Who shot you? Can you stand? We're going to get help.”

“I'm not going anywhere,” Derek snapped, but he didn't sound scary at all. Sweat was dripping from his pale face.

“Dude, you look terrible and you smell.”

“I smell?” Derek struggled to sit up on the boulder.

“Like death.” Stiles nodded. He approached him, wrapping one of Derek's arms around his waist while he threw his arm over Derek's broad shoulders. “Come on, big guy. I'll take care of you.”

“How do I know you have the power to save me? You look about to crumble under my weight.”

“You're not exactly light, besides my power is not physical like yours.”

It took effort for Stiles to haul Derek's ass into the jeep. On the ride to Deaton's practice, Derek leaned into the door, wheezing. There was pus bubbling out of his wound. Stiles tried not to gag at the sight and the smell.

“Please don't die. It would be hard to explain how I kinda stole my mom's jeep and ended up with a dead werewolf in the passenger seat.”

“Could you shut up?”

“In case you haven't noticed, this is what I do – I talk.”

“Oh, I've noticed.” Derek winced when more suppuration bubbled out of his wound.

“For the love of God, what is _that_? Is it contagious?” Stiles squeaked, leaning away from the bluish thing. “Are you going to die?”

Derek's thick eyebrow furrowed in the middle of his forehead. “If you don't shut up, I'm going to rip your throat out. _With my teeth._ ”

Stiles shifted the gear, accelerating toward the clinic. The faster he'd heal Derek Hale, the faster he'd quit his job at his emissary. He could pursue his dream to become part of the FBI. Scott's dad had told him he only had to say the word, and he'd be part of the program. That should be his life, not part of the supernatural.

At the clinic, Stiles pulled out his bunch of keys, searching for the right one. He was aware of Derek judging him in silence as it took him three tries to unlock the door and then the alarm blared up and it took him thirty seconds to punch in the code.

He flipped on the lamp over the exam table, going to search for wolfsbane powder. He knew that Deaton kept his stash in the back.

A crash from the room he'd left Derek in alerted Stiles. He abandoned searching for his bottle and rushed back to find Derek holding a small handsaw.

For the second time that night, Derek grabbed his shirt, pulling him close. The metal table was the only thing separating them.

“What?” Stiles squeaked, paling at the sight of the tourniquet around Derek's bicep.

“You'll have to cut off my arm.” He handed Stiles the handsaw, who fumbled with it, nearly dropping it.

“I was actually looking for an antidote.”

“I'm going to die if you don't do it.”

“While we're arguing, I could be in the back looking for the antidote!”

“There's no time! Just do it. Don't tell me you faint at the sight of blood.” Derek sneered through gritted teeth.

Stiles gulped, feeling his hands shaking. “No, but I might at the sight of a chopped off arm!”

Derek gripped the side of the table with a hand, turning white.

“Oh, God.” Stiles placed the blade of the handsaw under the tourniquet, squeezing his eyes shut.

“What the hell are you doing?” Scott's voice made Stiles sigh in relief, dropping the handsaw. The next second, Derek fell over the table, vomiting black liquid over Stiles's shoes.

“Grab the powder of wolfsbane. NOW!” Stiles shouted, panicked. He knelt next to Derek, keeping his head on his lap. He was completely still. “Don't die. Please, don't die.”

Scott returned what felt like a century later. Stiles accepted the bottle and opened it. He poured liberal amounts on Derek's wound then stuck his finger into the hole in his arm, pushing the powder inside.

Derek seized up on his lap, growling loudly, his fangs dropping and his eyes flashing blue. Then he fell limply.

“No. No. No. That's not supposed to happen!” Stiles shook Derek's shoulders, but nothing happened. “Please don't kill me for this.” He drew his fist back then flung it to Derek's face, connecting with the man's jaw.

Stiles was vaguely aware his wrist hurt.

Derek opened his eyes.

In the artificial light, Stiles could see they were an interesting shade of blue-green and his dark eyebrows were arched up.

“Hey, big guy.” Stiles smiled brightly.

Derek got up, looking around then stopped when he noticed Scott.

Stiles was on his feet and in between them as fast as he could. He placed a hand on Derek's chest, feeling the rumbling growls.

“So what brought you here, Scott? Not that I'm not grateful. You saved me from a life of nightmares.” Stiles gestured to the handsaw, still keeping a steady hand on Derek's chest. “Dude, you've got to chill. This is my best friend Scott.”

“And who's your friend?” Scott asked, watching Derek warily.

“We're working on the friend part. This is Derek, Talia's son. Remember, I told you I had to meet him today?”

“And you shot him then cured him to gain his trust, or what? Unnecessary, dude.”

Stiles flailed his arms, nearly smacking Derek in the face. “He was shot when I found him. It's a long story. You didn't say what you're doing here.”

“I have this app on my phone. It tells me when someone breaks into the clinic.” Scott shrugged. “So what do you plan on doing?”

“Who turned you?” Derek asked.

“Dude, it's rude to ask something like that.” Stiles slapped Derek's shoulder.

“It was a rogue. Your mother took care of him,” Scott explained, unfazed. “Sadly, he turned me, killed someone, and made our friend a banshee.”

“That's a legend. Banshees don't exist.” Derek rolled his eyes, leaning back against the exam table.

“Wanna meet her?” Scott challenged.

“We're getting ahead of us. We've got to talk, buddy.” Stiles winked at Derek, earning a dark look from the man. “Do you stay with the pack?”

“Yes, and you're not taking me home.”

“Remember the part where I am your emissary and you are the werewolf in need of guidance?” Stiles smirked, stroking Derek's arm. He dropped it when Derek growled loudly.

“You're not my bodyguard. I'll see you tomorrow.” He departed without a glance behind him.

“So you met the infamous Derek Hale,” Scott laughed, as they left the clinic, locking up.

“I wish I hadn't. I was so nervous earlier when I was waiting for him to show up with his mom, then Talia arrived without him. I got really angry and went after him. I found him wounded and brought him to the clinic. Deaton's right that I should take more responsibility about being an emissary.” Stiles climbed in his jeep and Scott followed. “Do you think my parents would be upset if I set up a magic shop in our attic?”

“Maybe the basement would be a better idea. Derek seems like a lot of trouble.”

“The thing is, I have to move out. Mom won't accept it. As for Dad… Yeah, it won't be pretty.” Stiles slumped over the steering wheel. “All the lessons with Deaton and Mom didn't prepare me for Derek. I can't handle him.”

“Of course you can. Dude, you're a great adviser. You've helped me through many things, without even knowing. And I'm talking… way before your lessons, before I got bitten. You're good at this – talking.”

Stiles laughed uneasily. “I talk a lot, huh?”

“Yeah, you do,” Scott laughed along. “You'd do great. Don't think it like you're the Druid and he's the werewolf. Think about it like you're meeting a new guy and you want to get to know him better. This guy is in trouble and you want to help him.”

“Thanks, man. I needed the pep talk.”

They bumped fists, then Stiles drove his friend home.

#

Three days had passed since Stiles had last seen Derek inside Deaton's clinic.

No one had asked questions on whether he'd found Derek or talked to him that day. Stiles found it odd, but preferred the silence to the inquisition. His mother and Talia were a force of nature when they allied against him.

He went to his room after a much needed shower. He'd been out with Scott and Lydia. Lydia had sensed that something terrible was going to happen, with her banshee powers, and insisted on Scott and Stiles to find out what was going on. Sadly, they hadn't found anything.

When he switched the light on, he gasped loudly. On his bed was Derek Hale.

“Shut the door,” Derek demanded.

“It's my room, buddy. How in the hell did you get here? Did Mom let you in?”

“Can you be quiet?” Derek tugged him inside the room then closed the door, pushing Stiles against it.

Stiles became aware of several things: their close proximity, Derek's scent, and that he had only a towel around his hips.

“Why so secretive? What have you done?”

Derek glared at him, his hands planted on each side of Stiles's head, his claws scraping against the door.

“Dude, don't wreck my door! My house, my room, my rules!” Stiles made to push against Derek's shoulder, but he wouldn't budge. “Stupid werewolf strength.”

Derek's eyes flashed for a second, but it was enough for Stiles to see their color.

He ducked under Derek's arm, grabbing clean underwear and changing into it as hidden as he could. Then he tugged on jeans and a shirt.

“Are you going to tell me who you killed?” Stiles slumped in his desk chair, feeling like a complete failure.

Derek's eyes were red. They had been blue a few days ago.

Derek had killed someone on his watch.

“Does anyone know?”

Derek sat back on the edge of the bed, looking down. “I had to.”

“You had to kill the Alpha? Are you kidding me? Please, for the love of all things holy, don't tell me you killed Talia!”

Derek growled so loudly, Stiles feared his parents heard him.

“Okay, okay. Stupid question. I had to scratch that off—”

“Stiles, turn down the movie!” His father shouted from his room.

“Sure!” He yelled back. “Think you can tone it down with the growling?”

“Think you can actually help me?”

“What should I do, Derek? I'm new to this, just like you're new to having an emissary. We have to work together – teamwork.”

Derek sighed heavily. “I went after the man who killed my girlfriend.”

Stiles flailed, nearly falling out his chair. He turned to search for Derek's file. It didn't say anything about a girlfriend that he could remember.

“It happened when I was in high school. I thought I could change her and be with her forever. No one told me the bite could kill her. I had a friend of Mom's bite her.”

“What? Who? I had no idea there were other werewolves in town.”

“Ennis. He left. Mom banished him along with the others.” Derek looked up, his eyes holding grief. “They're back. I came back because I heard of their plans. They want to kill my family.”

“Oh, my GOD! I'm so not prepared for this.” Stiles tried not to hyperventilate. “So… Wait! You killed the pack's Alpha?”

“One of them,” Derek explained.

“There are more packs?” Stiles shrieked.

“More Alphas. It's an Alpha pack.”

He'd heard about such things, and Deaton's advice was to 'run as far away as possible' if he ever encountered one.

Stiles picked a paper tissue, unfolded it, and waved it in the air. “Can I abandon ship?”

Derek's lips lifted in the corner.

Stiles couldn't believe he found it amusing, though it was nice to see the guy almost smiling.

“Okay, what are the odds?” Stiles asked after a while.

“Deucalion fears only my mother. He's the leader of the pack.”

“The Alpha of the Alpha pack?” Stiles had to clear that, to wrap his head around the situation.

“We don't stand a chance. Mom is bound to find out, but with Deaton gone…”

“He told me that he needed a few days off. Over a text message. I had no idea he knew how to use a cell phone.” Stiles shrugged. “Now I'm thrown in this situation head first.”

Derek stood up so fast, Stiles fell out of the chair. He scrambled up, holding on the last shreds of his dignity.

“We have to tell Mom. Ennis said we won't know what hit us when Deucalion strikes, and he has a secret weapon.”

“You think he got Deaton?” Stiles gasped, feeling his heart trying to beat out of his chest.

Derek nodded, solemnly. He touched Stiles's shoulder, and Stiles fought his muscles so not to flinch. “We got a secret weapon too.”

“Yeah, you got any friends willing to die for you?”

“We have you.”

Stiles burst out laughing. Derek slapped a hand over his mouth, but the damage was done.

Not long later, the door opened to reveal Claudia in her nightgown.

Derek could have hidden somewhere, but when Stiles had understood Derek wasn't joking, he'd promptly fainted.

“What have you done to him?” Claudia rushed to them.

Derek flushed, holding Stiles awkwardly to his chest. “You must be Claudia Stilinski. I'm Derek Hale.”

“I know who you are. The question is why are you in my son's room so late at night and why is he out cold?”

“What's going on, honey?” The Sheriff appeared in the doorway.

Derek made to take Stiles to the bed, but Stiles came around, jumping out of Derek's arms. He stopped moving his arms around when he noticed his parents, then he turned to look at Derek, then back at his parents.

“We're going to talk to your family. NOW.” Stiles snatched his red hoodie off the back of the chair.

“Be reasonable. It's almost midnight,” Derek said softly.

“Do you think the Alpha pack will be reasonable when they decide to slaughter your family in their sleep? No? Good. Didn't think so.”

“Alpha pack?” Claudia cried out.

“Someone trying to kill the Hales?”

Stiles threw his arms in the air. “There's NO time!” He stepped into his shoes, then ushered Derek out of his room. “I'll be fine. Please, don't get involved in this. It's my business,” he told his mother and father. “I've got it.”

His mother touched his cheek, saying she was proud of him. His dad clapped his shoulder, saying he and the police were a call away if he needed help.

The car ride to the Hale house was silent, except for Stiles muttering curse words under his breath.

In the front of the house, they found Laura, the oldest child of Talia's. She fell into Derek's arms crying and telling him Deucalion got their mother. They were in the old distillery and if he didn't show up by midnight, he had people ready to set the house on fire.

“Get everyone out and to safety,” Derek said hurriedly.

“I can't. They circled the house with mountain ash. I was out with Mom, and when we returned this happened.” Laura wiped her tears and pulled away from Derek. She noticed Stiles and recoiled. “Who's he?”

“I'm your savior. We have five minutes until midnight, Derek.”

They ran through the forest, leaving Laura to call Claudia to help her break the mountain ash barrier.

“Any plans on what you'd do?” Derek asked as they approached the place.

“I'm good with talking. And I've got this.” Stiles pulled out a vial of yellow and black powder.

“What the hell is that?”

“Deaton said I should test my theory. It's something I created. Crushed flowers of yellow wolfsbane and mountain ash. If my theory is correct – this should kill the werewolf trapped within the circle.”

“I thought you were the good guy.” Derek eyed him impressed, yet slightly afraid.

“It's meant for the wolves gone bad, like the one who bit Scott and Lydia. Is this it?” He asked, looking up to see an old building. “This place looks abandoned.”

“It is.” Derek walked ahead of him. “Mom!” He made to run to her, but two guys seized his arms, holding him down. His mother was held upright, her arms tied behind her, and a female Alpha had her claws at her throat.

“So touching. Is this it? I was expecting fireworks.” Deucalion stepped out of the shadows. “You can't outsmart me. Now that you've become an Alpha, I want you in my pack even more, Derek.”

“You will never have Derek,” Stiles said conversationally, as he walked into the old distillery, hands in his pockets.

“Who's the kid? Did you get yourself a mate, Derek? How sweet.” Deucalion mocked him. “And he's human. What a delight.”

Stiles noticed Talia shaking her head, almost imperceptibly. Derek growled loudly, in warning. His captors twisted his arms under and dislocated his shoulders, making him cry out in pain.

Stiles focused on the task at hand. If he kept his mind focused, he could act as the Hales' protector. As he walked further into the large room, he noticed Deaton, hanging from his arms to a beam. He barely looked alive.

“I want you to leave this territory,” Stiles told Deucalion, enunciating the words clearly.

“Oh, is that so?” The werewolf was so close now that Stiles could see his reflection in the man's dark sunglasses. He was impressed on how calm he looked, when on the inside he was freaking out.

He'd heard quite a lot about Deucalion to know he was dealing with probably the most savage werewolf alive.

“You're not welcome here.” He squinted at the man.

Deucalion took his sunglasses off, slowly. “Do you have any idea who you are talking to, boy?”

Stiles straightened up, looking him in the eyes. The white of the werewolf's eyes didn't scare him. He knew Deucalion could see with his wolf eyes.

“I know exactly who I'm dealing with,” Stiles said, trying to contain his smirk. He pulled out the vial, never breaking eye-contact. He felt his eyes glowing, something Deaton had told him it was extremely rare in a Spark. “Do you?” Stiles challenged.

Deucalion took a step back, startled.

Stiles seized the opportunity to throw the vial at Deucalion's feet. It created a perfect circle, trapping him inside it. He watched as the man crumbled to the ground, gasping for breath.

One of the twins holding Derek charged toward Stiles. It was all Stiles had waited for. His hands shook as he looked at the tiny blade, wrapped in paper tissue, he'd pulled out of his hoodie. He crushed it into his fist, drawing blood.

Deucalion howled in terror behind him.

“Oh, did I forget to mention I got possessed by a dark spirit last year? I ended up with some allies from that experience.”

Out of thin air, three dark figures appeared. Stiles looked at the twins then at the woman holding Talia by the throat. There were droplets of blood running down her neck.

Deucalion struggled, but it was clear he was fighting a losing battle.

“Watch as the Oni decimate your pack. I could have left them alive, but you harmed my pack. I am not a very forgiving person.”

The Oni warriors drew their swords, then drove them onto the three werewolves of Deucalion's pack. Stiles wiped the fox tail of blood, throwing it to the ground then destroying it. Kira was going to kill him for it. The Oni disappeared.

Talia ran to Deaton, as Stiles sat cross-legged in front of the circle constricting Deucalion. Just as he fell to the ground, unmoving, Derek came to his side.

Stiles sprang up, wrapping his arms around Derek. The adrenaline rush was gone and he could feel himself shaking.

“It's okay. You'll be okay.” Derek rubbed his back. “That was badass,” he whispered in his ear.

“I can't believe you used the Oni!” Deaton's tired voice came from behind him.

Stiles lifted his head from Derek's shoulder to look at his teacher. “You had any other idea on how to kill them? Besides, my invention worked.”

“You'll make an amazing emissary one day, Stiles,” Talia said softly.

“One day? What did I just do? Don't tell me this was all a test!”

“Sadly, it wasn't a test, but as it turns out, it was good practice.” Deaton leaned into Talia's side. “You still have a lot to learn.”

“No offense, Alan, but I'd rather have Stiles as my emissary,” Derek declared.

“I knew you'd like me, big guy!”

“You saved my life twice so far.”

“Let's hope you don't get yourself in mortal danger any time soon again. Twice in almost as many days is my limit at saving sexy werewolves.” He clamped his hands over his mouth, staring panicked at Derek. He hadn't meant to say it aloud, not that he didn't consider Derek hot.

Derek smiled bashfully, ducking his head.

“As long as you live under my roof, there are rules. I bet Claudia has the same rules,” Talia told them.

“Of course, Mom.”

“Oh, God.” Stiles was mortified.

“That's why Peter bought you the apartment. We knew you'd find someone. Of course, I never expected it to be so soon or for that someone to be our little Stiles…” Talia smiled at them warmly. “Welcome to the pack, Stiles.”

#

Stiles knocked on the loft's door, twisting the strap of his backpack in his hands.

The door opened to reveal Derek in gray sweatpants riding low on his hips and a black sleeveless shirt. Stiles tried not to stare at the muscles, but it was difficult.

“Hey,” he said awkwardly, hurrying inside past Derek.

“You're early,” Derek said in a gruff voice.

“Uh, yeah. I decided we should get a head start.”

“I was doing my morning exercises.” Derek stretched his arms above his head. The gesture made his shirt ride up showing his toned stomach.

Stiles stifled a whimper. He went into Derek's kitchen to get coffee. He'd become familiar with most things in the loft, but he had to, since he spent most of his time there.

It had been two weeks since he'd decimated Deucalion's pack and saved the Hale pack. Ever since then, he'd spent his every waking moment with Derek.

No one had told Stiles he'd act as a psychologist when he became an emissary, because it felt a lot like it.

Derek had told him everything about his past. He'd opened up about Paige, the girl he loved and told Ennis to turn into a werewolf, about his strained relationship with his uncle Peter, about what a coward he was to leave the pack instead of staying and talking to his mother, about how he met a girl in New York and how she turned out to be a hunter.

Stiles did his best to empathize with Derek most of the time, but some things were hard to digest or even imagine possible.

When they'd worked over guilt and reassurance that he was welcomed back, Stiles had a difficult task to talk about. Talia kept asking if he'd touched the subject, but he was too scared to even think it was possible.

Since Derek was a born werewolf and an Alpha now, he could fully shift, like his mother. Which meant, he could turn into an actual wolf. Talia had explained to him that Stiles, as Derek's emissary, had to guide him through the change. He had to find balance and keep him from becoming feral when he fully shifted.

The pressure of the time was on Stiles's shoulders. The full moon was in a couple of days.

“Okay, big guy! We need to have a chat.” He walked back into the living room, carrying his 'I'm Batman' coffee mug. “Whoa!”

Derek had a spread bar between two beams near the window and was doing lift ups. Stiles wasn't sure if they were called that, but his eyes were on Derek's bare back, his muscles working as he used his arms to raise his weight. The triskele tattoo on his back was glistening with sweat and all Stiles wanted at the moment was to lick it.

He shook his head, reminding himself he had an important task.

Despite of their obvious attraction, neither of them had acted on it. Stiles was too scared, given Derek's past relationships with women, and how inexperienced he was in that area.

Derek jumped down, spinning on his heel and grinning.

Stiles cleared his throat, glowering. The asshole knew what he was doing to Stiles's sensitive hormones. He still wasn't sure how he hadn't jumped Derek yet. Most of his thoughts were on the things he'd do to Derek, and Derek definitely knew it. He could smell his arousal.

“What do you want to talk about?” Derek folded his arms across his chest, bulging his biceps.

Stiles was sure he'd done a lot of wrong in a previous life to suffer like this. “The full moon.”

“It's a phenomenon that happens once every month. It affects animals and humans alike in various ways.”

“Ha ha. You think this is funny?” Stiles set his mug on the table. “You'll have to control your shift better now that you're an Alpha.”

“I've already talked to my mother.” Derek went to the large windows, looking outside. “I only need a better anchor than my anger.” Stiles saw Derek's eyebrows furrowing in the window reflection. “I might have found it.”

“Exercise?” Stiles flailed around, looking at all the appliance Derek had bought.

“You.” Derek turned around, meeting his eyes.

“M-me?” Stiles leaned into the table for balance. “What the hell? I can't be your anchor. Can I?”

Derek approached him slowly, like he was preying on him. Stiles squirmed, but didn't move. Derek placed his hands on Stiles's sides, lifting him up so he was sitting on the table with Derek standing directing between his legs.

Stiles couldn't locate his lungs. _What is air?_

“You ground me,” Derek admitted. “You've helped me so much. Just by being here and listening to my sad story.”

“It's kinda my job.” Stiles could barely hear his own voice.

“Deaton wouldn't have been so understanding.” Derek touched his shoulder, his thumb stroking the side of his neck. “You make me want to stay human.”

Stiles exhaled a long breath he had no idea he was holding. “That's good?”

Derek nodded, a small smile playing at his lips. “I'm prepared to face the full moon.” He was inching closer, so close Stiles could feel his breath on his face. He searched Stiles's eyes and whatever he found in there made him pull away.

Stiles wanted to kick himself.

He locked his legs around Derek, preventing him from going too far. Then he threw his arms around Derek's shoulders, bringing him closer.

“You're fifty seconds away from fainting,” Derek said seriously. “Breathe.”

“Are you going to kiss me?”

“Not if you faint on me.”

Stiles mashed his mouth on Derek's, kissing him clumsily. He hadn't had much time to be a normal teenager and experience stuff. Derek didn't seem to mind his lack of knowledge in the kissing department.

Stiles groaned, the sound muffled by their joined mouths, when Derek licked his lower lip, asking for access. Derek's hands were splayed on Stiles's back, just like Stiles's were on Derek's sweaty skin, touching all the muscles under the rippling skin.

“Derek! I've been calling—”

They jumped apart at the sound of Laura's voice.

Derek busied himself with wrapping a towel around his neck, while Stiles nearly brained himself on the floor when he jumped off the table.

“Smooth, little brother. Banging your emissary.”

Derek patted his face with the side of the towel. “Is there a reason why you're here?”

Laura shot Stiles an amused look, then focused on her brother. “Yes, actually. Mom told me not to, but what's the worst that can happen? You can say no.”

“Then the answer is no,” Derek told her promptly.

“Derek…” Stiles warned him. “We talked about the negativity in your life. Allow your sister to talk, then make a decision – a rational one.”

Laura was impressed with Stiles's speech. Derek even appeared to be slightly ashamed of his outburst.

“Okay. So I was wondering if you'd like to spend the full moon with us.”

“No!” Stiles shouted.

Laura shot him an incredulous look. She'd expected Stiles to encourage Derek to spend time with his pack, especially the full moon.

“We have plans. We'll be in the woods. It will be Derek's first time as an Alpha. If I'm sure he's ready to be around you, I'll bring him myself to the house,” Stiles explained.

“Derek? Don't you get a say in this?” Laura stared at her brother, who hadn't twitched a muscle while Stiles had talked.

Derek shrugged. “I've no idea why Mom and Stiles are so worried, but I want to do things right. There will be other full moons, Laura. I'll spend them all with the pack.”

“Don't make promises you can't keep. We all know that if you and Stiles create a stronger bond than wolf-emissary, you will stay with him.”

“And what's wrong in that?”

“I won't stop him from seeing the pack, Laura.” Stiles picked his coffee mug, he needed the caffeine for the situation he was facing. “Please understand that if your mother hadn't begged me to take him away for the full moon, I'd carry him myself to your house. I know he hasn't visited, because I've been here all the time.”

Laura sighed, realizing Stiles was on her side.

“We have nothing to talk about today, Stiles. I think we got it covered that I'll be fine on the full moon.” Derek shot him a smile, making him weak at the knees. “I'll grab a shower, then lunch on me, Laura.”

“Dude!” Stiles thrust his hands to Derek, slouching coffee out of his mug on the floor. “Your mom will kill me if she finds out we haven't discussed the full moon.”

“But we have.” Derek gave him a pointed look, reminding him about being his anchor through that look. Then he was gone, headed to take a shower.

“How can you stand him?” Stiles demanded, glaring after him.

“He's my brother. It's not like I got a choice.” Laura laughed. “You can join us for lunch.”

“Nah. I'm fine. I'll… I have something to do.”

#

Stiles didn't go home.

He met Talia at the Hale house, which was oddly deserted of all residents.

He sat on the sofa, his linked hands dangling between his spread legs.

“So how serious is this? If he shifts into a wolf, like you… How does he come back?”

“Naked.”

Stiles opened his mouth, then shut it, squinting at Talia. “You're shitting me? Shit. Sorry. Are you joking?”

She laughed. “I figured to go with the truth. You might need to have a change of clothes for him in your backpack.”

“Okay. What I meant is…”

“Do you have any idea what it takes to turn into an actual wolf?” Talia asked gently.

“Not particularly. No.”

“Everything within the human shifts – bones, muscles, flesh. There is a special kind of balance needed for a werewolf to be in sync with both his human and animal side.”

Stiles gulped, his hands shaking. He couldn't imagine facing a wolf Derek and rationalizing with him. Derek was volatile – that was the first thing Stiles had learned about him. Derek turned into a wolf was a scary concept.

“One zen wolf required. Great. Still no idea how to do it.”

“Derek can't achieve this on his own. He needs you. You're his anchor.” Talia gave him a small smile, as if knowing they'd touched the subject. “He's figured it out already, hasn't he?”

“He might have. What does that mean? An anchor?”

“You ground him. You keep him human. You bring him back to being human when the animal side wants to consume him.”

“Easy peasy.” Stiles laughed nervously.

“You'll do great, Stiles.” Talia touched his shoulder, squeezing. “Any other questions?”

“I also wondered if knotting was a real thing, but I never imagined having that conversation with you. So forget I said anything.” He got up, feeling his palms sweat.

He was a total idiot. _How could he ask Derek's mother about knotting?_

“That's a good question.”

“It is?” Stiles squeaked, feeling his face burning.

“Derek is an Alpha now. I'm sure that has changed his anatomy in all ways. For now, let’s focus on the full moon.”

“Right. Keeping Derek human.” Stiles nodded. “Hypothetically…” He said, following Talia to the front door.

“You'll be locked together for several minutes,” she answered seriously.

“What?” Stiles froze. She'd answered about knotting and the idea of being knotted excited and freaked him out. “I was actually going to ask about the full moon. If Derek shifts…and I lose him?”

“You'll be a terrible emissary,” Peter answered, coming into the house.

Talia cringed. “You'll call me if that happens, but I have a feeling Derek won't run away from you.”

“He might run _to_ you,” Peter added in a dangerous voice, making all hair stand up on Stiles's neck.

“Is he likely to maim me?” Stiles asked in a shaky voice.

“Maim isn't the word I have in mind. It starts with M, and it binds you to him.”

“Peter, that's enough!” Talia snapped. “Stiles, you'll do great. I have complete faith in both you and Derek.”

#

The hike to the viewpoint left Stiles breathless. He fell on the flat boulder, arms and legs spread wide, panting.

After several minutes of silence, he picked his head up to look around for Derek. Last he’d seen him near the edge of the cliff, looking at the moon. But that was before Stiles thought he’d die from the jog Derek had imposed during their trip through the woods.

“Derek?” Stiles sat up, not seeing him anywhere. “Shit.”

He walked to the edge of the cliff, hoping Derek hadn’t fallen or something. It was just his luck to lose him on the full moon.

Before Stiles could go into a full blown panic attack, he heard a noise from the line of trees behind him.

“Oh, thank God!” But he screamed in fright when a wolf appeared between the trees, staying low to the ground. His eyes burning red and his pointed ears flicking. “Holy hell! Derek?”

The black wolf approached, tail between his legs, head bowed.

“Oh, God. It’s okay. Come here.” He crouched down, holding a hand out, palm up.

The wolf studied him for a while then butted his wet muzzle to Stiles's palm.

“Derek? Say it’s you.”

The wolf leaned up, licking at Stiles’s mouth.

“Okay, okay. It’s you. You okay?” He scratched a hand between Derek's ears.

They twitched and he moved his head away, having too much dignity to be petted like a dog. Derek walked to the boulder, sitting down and staring at the moon.

Stiles went to sit next to him. “Are you in control? Not going to howl at the moon? Not going to kill me?”

Derek turned his head sharply, growling loudly, then snapping his teeth at Stiles. It startled him so much that he fell of the boulder, ending up in an awkward position.

“Fucking wolf!” Stiles kicked a foot at Derek's paws, making him lose balance and end up muzzle first in the ground.

He got up dazed, shaking his body, before pouncing on Stiles.

“Whoa! Dude!” Stiles covered his face, seriously afraid.

Derek only pushed at his arms until Stiles lifted them so he could lick his face.

Eventually, they resumed their position on the boulder. Derek lay with his head on Stiles's lap, allowing him to pet his fur. Stiles kept texting Talia, saying that Derek was fine and that if she wanted, he could bring him over. She declined, insisting in that they needed to bond and they should end the night at Derek's place. Derek would need a lot of reassurance when he returned to his human body.

Hours passed, but Stiles didn’t mind. Derek was dozing off, only his ears moving when he picked some distant noise.

“Think we could head home? I’m getting chilly,” Stiles whispered, at some point.

Derek shuffled closer as if to keep him warm, whining low.

“Okay, I'll take it as a no. It was just a suggestion.”

Derek lifted his head, eyeing him warily. He butted his head under Stiles’s chin.

“I don’t get it. What do you want? It would help if you came back to me.” Stiles stroked between Derek's eyes. “Please? I want to hear you talk to me.”

Derek froze. A panicked look crossed his eyes.

“Oh, God. You have no idea how to do it?” Stiles asked, and Derek bent his head, dejectedly. “Fuck! I hate you so much right now. Remember all the times I tried talking about the full moon but you distracted me with kisses?”

Derek licked his face, waggling his tail.

“No. You don’t get to act all cute.” Stiles sat up, making Derek jump down. “Let’s go home. I have to figure how to get you back. And I can’t tell your mom. She’ll kill us both!”

On the way to Derek’s Camaro, Stiles had a mini panic attack at the idea of Derek being stuck as a wolf forever.

Derek went into the passenger seat without much fanfare. He coiled up on the leather seat, watching as Stiles fumbled with starting the fancy car.

As they began driving, Derek pawed at the window, giving Stiles a hopeful look.

“Seriously? You want to stick your head out?” Stiles laughed. He rolled down the window on Derek's side, glancing at him every now and then. He had his head out, the wind ruffling his fur, and his tongue lolling out. It seemed like he had the time of his life. Stiles wasn’t going to let him live this down.

Derek stayed close to Stiles’s legs when they walked up to his loft. Stiles found it funny how Derek kept snuffing at everything and once inside the loft, he rushed to the couch. He jumped on it, turning this way then that way before settling down with a loud sigh.

Unable to help himself, Stiles crouched in front of him, kissing his muzzle. To his amusement, Derek sneezed, looking unimpressed at the affectionate gesture.

Stiles had never had a pet, but Derek's wolf form was growing on him.

“Hey. You hungry?” Stiles went into the kitchen, ransacking the place. He tried to keep it stocked, knowing Derek wasn’t the kind of guy to go grocery shopping.

There was no answer from the couch and Stiles figured Derek decided to take a nap. He blamed his sureness of Derek being asleep to his yelp when something touched his butt.

“Holy hell, dude!” Stiles whirled around.

Derek lapped circles around him, all playful, and Stiles hoped he hadn’t stayed in his wolf form for too long. Could he help him turn back? He hoped Derek wasn’t going to be stuck as a wolf, as much as he liked him like that.

“Derek.” Stiles blocked his path. “I need you to focus. I want you back.”

Derek's ears plastered to his head and his eyes widened.

“I know you like it in this form. I can see it. But I miss my… I miss you. The human you,” he spoke gently.

Derek butted his cheek with his muzzle, whining.

“Fine. Suit yourself. You decided your life goal is to live as a wolf? Seriously? Now, when things got good? We were kissing, dude! I’m not gonna keep kissing your muzzle. Dog breath. Blah.” Stiles walked to the door. “And nevermind sex.”

There was a commotion behind him, and when he turned to see what Derek had done, he gasped. A very human Derek was laying on the floor. And he was naked. And hard. And pissed.

“Can we not tell your mother what brought you back? I mean, everyone knows you want to bone me, but seriously?”

Derek snarled, jumping on Stiles, who flailed, then fell on his ass. Derek pinned him to the ground, devouring his mouth.

“What the hell, man?”

“You’re a tough little shit,” Derek muttered, nosing at his neck.

“I thought you’ve figured that already, when I was carrying your dying ass through the woods the night we met.”

Derek smirked against his skin, making Stiles pull back. Derek took advantage of their position to kiss him with hunger. Then he ripped Stiles's clothes off his body, making him groan in protest.

#

“Holy hell!” Stiles’s knees gave out.

As he fell head first into the pillow, he heard Derek groan loudly. It was more like a growl. He was pulled along with Stiles since they were locked together.

Stiles’s curiosity about the knot had been answered. It existed. And it was huge.

“How much cum do you have in you?” He moaned into the pillow. His dick struggled to awaken but coming three times in less than thirty minutes had left him spent. The overstimulation of Derek’s knot bumping into his sensitive prostate didn’t help at all.

“A lot apparently,” Derek grunted, falling over Stiles’s back.

“You’re squishing me, dude! I can’t breathe!” Stiles gasped, wriggling around. The movement made both of the moan in pleasure.

“Maybe next time, we’ll think of a better position.”

“I was all for face to face lovemaking, but you brute threw me on the bed before ravishing me. Not that I’m complaining. You can ravish me any time you want.”

Stiles felt Derek smiling against his shoulder.

**Author's Note:**

> I liked being part of this gift exchange. =)


End file.
